


Us, Together

by Komatsu



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms, Bravely Default II
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Major Spoilers, More Tags in the fic itself, Sexual Content, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-24 04:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Komatsu/pseuds/Komatsu
Summary: Elvis and Adelle. Partners, and maybe something more. There are differences between them, but one night together shows that they are more alike than they could have thought possible. From there, their relationship continues to grow.Containsspoilers(additional tags in the notes, for now) for at least up to Chapter 4and end-game, though minor spoilers. Proceed with caution.Officially being continued with Chapter 2, the mornings-after.
Relationships: Adelle/Elvis (Bravely Default)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Tags will be updated eventually once a couple of months have passed).  
> Contains Interspecies sex, first times, and exploring sexuality. 
> 
> All characters are 35 years +

His beard tickles.

That's the first thing that she thinks of, all she can pay attention to, as he presses his long nose against her temple. It makes her laugh.

"What is it?" he asks. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing's funny," she replies, feeling a bit chagrined. Of course he'd have to ruin everything by speaking. This is embarrassing enough as it is without commentary. "It just tickles, is all."

"Tickles?" He seems to consider it for a moment before doubling down on her and rubbing his chin against hers. It _tickles._ She swats at him. 

"Any more of that and I'm calling it quits," she tells him.

"Aw, Adelle," and the low tone of his voice is enough to make something flutter in her stomach. Stupid Elvis. "It's just for a spot of fun. What's the point of this if we can't have fun while we're doing it?"

What was the point of this indeed? She says nothing, but leans her head against his shoulder, smiling a bit as his arms wrap around her torso. She's still unsure, but something about the gesture calms her, as foreign as it is.

They were in their own room in an inn, with no interruptions on the horizon. Elvis had reserved just the one room, though there were two beds in it. They had no intentions of using the second bed, not when it was just the two of them, with their plans in mind. 

Their plans to be physical with one another. Not in their normal way, but intimate, even. It was something new for them both. Fairies didn't get intimate with people, especially with humans, but she'd wanted to try this. What made her more unsure is that he'd told her she could be in her 'true' form for it, if she wanted. He wanted her to be comfortable for this, wanted her to fully enjoy it.

She isn't sure how much she'll enjoy it, but as long as _he_ likes it, it will be worth it, she supposes. She's nervous in a way she hasn't felt in a long time. She doesn't normally _do_ nervous, except for now.

"Okay," she says. "I'm going to change."

Shifting into her true form is as easy as breathing, and she hovers for a moment off the bed as her wings flap, a bit confined in the room. Then, she's sitting down on the edge again, facing him.

When he smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkle slightly. "You're a sight to see."

"Thanks?" What else is she supposed to say?

"Can I kiss you?" he asks her suddenly.

Kiss? She's never kissed anyone before. "Sure," she says, because she won't back down from the challenge.

He leans forward and she closes her eyes, heart suddenly pounding in her chest. 

She has no idea what she expected, but his lips are soft. His beard tickles her chin, but she tries to ignore it as she leans into him, her hands in her lap. Just as soon as it started it's over, Elvis leaning back away from her, licking at his lips.

"Crickey," he breathes. "Not bad for a first kiss, was it?"

"No," she decides. It wasn't bad at all. She might even say she liked it, as brief as it had been. Her eyes slip shut once more as he leans forward again.

This time the kiss is a bit more firm, his lips molding to hers. It lasts a good deal longer too and she holds her breath for so long that she has to pull away to breathe, coughing slightly.

"Careful there," he says, sounding amused. His hands grasp her elbows. "Breathe."

"I'm breathing!"

He presses his lips to the tip of her nose. "I can see that."

If he makes fun of her she might call it quits, too. Then again, already there's something simmering in her lower belly, something new and foreign, but… nice. It's nice. 

The third kiss comes without warning, and she opens her mouth to his tongue as it laps against her lips. It's … warm and a little thick in her mouth, but she finds herself groaning as the kiss continues, breathing in ragged gasps. 

He's cradling her head when they part, and she licks her lips nervously. They feel swollen. He pulls her onto his lap now, where her legs drift to either side of his hips.

"Let's see," he says, more to himself than to her. "What do fairies like?"

"Fairies don't normally have sex," she tells him, matter-of-factly. "There's no need for it. We're born from flowers, after all."

"Oh come on. You like drinks as much as humans do, you eat like humans do, you have to have some sort of pleasure sensors somewhere like humans do. We just have to find them!"

His nails go to work in her hair, and her eyelashes flutter. That feels good. She's always liked it when someone brushes her hair. There's a smirk on his face that she wants to wipe off, but instead, she averts her gaze, focusing on his shoulder as his fingers move to her ears.

They tingle as he rubs at the juncture between them and her head, gentle but firm. She leans into his touch. "That feels good, eh?" he asks, continuing to rub.

"Yeah," she breathes. "That's… nice." Who knew her ears could be so sensitive?

From there his hands wander up to her antenna, brushing against the sensitive tips of them. She shivers. That's even nicer. She resists the urge to butt her head against his palm, but does lower it, chin dropping down to her chest.

He continues to fondle her antenna for some time as she squirms on his lap, before his hands drop down to her shoulders. "That's it?" she asks him. That had felt good, too good to finish. 

"There's more," he replies, sounding amused. "What else do you fairies like?"

She has to think about this. In all her one hundred and fifty plus years, she's never been with another person in any capacity. She has no idea what she could possibly like. Her wings flicker and that gives her an idea. They've always been sensitive too.

"Try touching my wings," she suggests. "Carefully."

"Are you sure?" he asks her, but he's already reaching out. "They're soft." Her wings are soft. It's a point of pride. She flutters them nervously against his touch, noticing that it wasn't doing much for her at all. 

He can tell, it seems, because his fingers drift away. Then, they come back with a vengeance, his arms looping around her back until he can press into the juncture of her back, right where her wings extend. Something white-hot but pleasurable bursts from the contact. She's never felt something so intense before. 

"Haah," she breathes. His fingers are _delightful_ and her lower tummy burns with a low flame. She finds herself arching into him, chest pressing against his. 

He chuckles. "So you like that, eh?"

Of course she does. It feels _good_ and sweet, and she grinds down into his lap, feeling something hard press up against her. He groans, his fingers curling. 

"Crikey, Adelle, you're so beautiful…" 

She flushes. She likes a compliment, but right now? It makes her feel all kinds of things, warmth boiling in her stomach and in her chest. She shifts slightly, suddenly nervous. Her wings flutter again.

"How do… we do this?" she asks him. She knows what they're doing, but the how is beyond her. In this form, and perhaps even in her human form, she can't exactly take him like a normal human female could, right? Whatever that even means. 

"We'll just take it slow," he says, leaning back on his hands, voice as casual as could be, as though they weren't in the middle of… whatever it is that they're doing. "One step at a time. Don't sweat the details, eh?"

Easy for him to say, she thinks. She has no idea what she's doing. This is all so new to her. 

But it seems new to him too, judging by the awkward way that he grasps her breasts. His thumb rubs across the apex of her curves. "Are these clothes?" he asks. "Or …?"

"They're clothes," she replies. Right, she should… take them off if they're going to continue. Reaching up to her top, she starts to wiggle out of them, lifting herself up off his lap by way of her wings. Hovering above him, she peels herself out of her clothes carefully, trying not to notice the way that he watches, his gaze more interested than aroused. Ever the scholar, she thinks wryly. 

"That's more like it," he replies once she's nude. There's a smile on his face as his eyes sweep over her. 

"You're not going to return the favor?" That's hardly fair that she's nude and he's still fully clothed. 

"Oh!" he says, as though he's forgotten. "Right, right." He makes to take off his clothes, and Adelle stays hovering above him so that he's free to do so, watching with curiosity as he's revealed bit by bit. She's never seen this much of his body before; the Asterisks always cover him completely. To her surprise, he's _hairy_ , another sign that he's a male, a thin sheen of hair covering his chest and a line of it trailing from his stomach to his… oh! She tries not to stare, but… he's already half-erect. Is that normal? She doesn't know, and doesn't know if he's supposed to look normal either. This is the first time she's seen a man nude, after all.

"Oi, oi, don't stare will you?" he complains, covering himself with a hand.

"Sorry," she says, truly apologetic. She doesn't mean to embarrass him. "It's just - do they all look like that?" Maybe he knows. She doesn't.

"I wouldn't know," he replies. "Not right in the habit of looking at other men, you see."

"Oh. Right." That makes sense. 

He shifts awkwardly, and there's a silence that falls over them. She drifts down to straddle his lap again, dangerously close to his… manhood. Biting her lip, she decides to take the first step and touches it gently, her fingers wrapping around the length. That feels right. And yet, it feels weird. It's warm to the touch, firm, and _alive._ She squeezes.

"Ach," he says. "Careful there. Don't know your own strength, do you?"

"I am being careful," she tells him. She doesn't know what to do from here, her fingers wiggling slightly on the shaft. 

"Try going up and down a wee bit," he suggests, shifting a bit on his hands. "Like that," he continues when she does as asked, her grip light. "Just like that." His eyelashes flutter dangerously. 

She bites her lip as she continues to handle him, feeling a little powerful. Here is he, trusting her with something so private and sensitive. She could do a lot of damage here if she wanted, but she doesn't want to. She wants to keep touching him, watching his face as a flush builds on his cheeks as though he'd had a good drink or two. He's now fully hard in her hand, the head flushed just as much as his cheeks, and she rubs her thumb over it, listening to him hiss between his teeth. 

"Does it hurt?" she asks him, a little concerned. Who knows if what she's doing is right?

"Not in the least, eh?" he chuckles, and one of his hands reaches up to cradle her breast, his fingers brushing over petal pink nipples that go stiff at his touch. She shudders, squeezing her hand around him while her wings flutter with excitement. That feels good, almost as good as he looks like _he_ feels, shifting up into her touch. "Adelle, lassie…"

Now isn't the time to remind him that she's older than him, she thinks, instead focusing on continuing to touch him, stroking from root to tip, her touch getting bolder with each passing second. The way he whines under his breath is incentive enough to keep going. For once he's speechless, his breath coming in gasps and moans. Both of his hands now reach up to touch her breasts, squeezing and fondling those sensitive mounds until her own breath is ragged. 

She had no idea she could feel this way. 

Heat boils in her lower stomach, urged by his breathy noises and the way he continues to play with her breasts, rubbing and pinching at her nipples in time with the strokes she makes up and down his manhood. Already, something white and pearly is leaking out the tip and she's _fascinated_ by it, smearing a droplet across the flushed glans. What _is_ that?

She decides to ask.

"What is this?" she asks him, rubbing another droplet into the head of his member.

"Eh, what?" He looks down at it, his voice dazed. His hands stop caressing her breasts. "That?"

"This."

For a moment she wonders if he's even going to answer, but then he does, as matter-of-factly as if she'd asked him about the weather. "It's called precome," he says, shifting awkwardly. "It means I'm close. I'm _very_ close. Adelle, if you keep going, I'll be useless the rest of the night."

Wouldn't that be something to see? She smiles. "You? Useless?" Close to what, she wonders, but decides she'll find out soon enough. She continues to stroke him, enjoying the way he moans, his fingers going back to caressing her stiffened nipples.

He was close to _this_ , his whole body suddenly shuddering, his hips jerking up into her touch. Flecks of a white, thickish liquid spill out from the tip of his glans all over her fingers, coating her grip in something slick and hot. 

"Oh!" she says. She pulls her hand away and waves it as though burned, succeeding in doing nothing but making a mess.

He's panting, his member already going soft against his stomach. "I warned ye."

"You didn't tell me _this_ would happen!" she reminds him. "How was I to know?"

"You're right," he replies after a moment, sounding a bit more sure of himself. His eyes look over her. "You couldn't know."

There's something in his gaze that makes her squirm and her wings flutter. She doesn't know how to place it, so she remains seated on his legs, looking everywhere but at him. 

He touches her face. "Adelle, look at me."

She does, finally meeting his eyes. She's not normally one to shy away from people, but in this place and time, it's something else. 

"You've nothing to be ashamed about," he says, and she wants to laugh. Shame? She isn't feeling _shame._ It's excitement, strange and new, that fills her. She's wanted to learn about humans, and here she is, learning more than she could have ever imagined. 

"I'm not ashamed," she tells him. "What's next?"

"It's time for you to get something out of this," he tells her, and he pushes some of his hair out of his face as he leans forward to press a kiss to her chest. His tongue flicks out to lick at her skin and her eyes close. She tries not to jut her chest out into him, but that's easier said than done. Instead, she reaches up to cradle his face, rubbing her thumbs across his cheeks and his pierced ears. She can feel him smiling. 

Then, his lips close around a nipple and he sucks. She lets out a gasp. She knew nipples were sensitive, but _this_ is something else entirely. One of his hands plays with her other nipple, squeezing and pinching at it. She rocks on his lap, beginning to enjoy the sensations, the heat, that build in her.

Something peculiar is happening between her legs, heat and wetness. She shifts so that she may be able to grind together her thighs, only to be stopped by Elvis's other hand pushing at them. He pulls away from her so that he can speak.

"Do you want me to keep going, aye?" he asks her, his voice low and tight. "Are you enjoying this?"

"How could I not?" she asks him in return. "It feels amazing!" Almost as good as a big meal of snow elk or that new pair of shoes he'd purchased for her. She runs her fingers through his hair. "Keep going."

His hand, the one on her thigh, slides in between her legs and she yelps as it comes into contact with something _good._ He rubs her there, in response to her yelp, watching her face carefully. She squeezes her eyes shut, drops her mouth open, and _breathes_ , shaky and distracted by all the warmth swirling. It's getting hot. She's getting hot, and she finds herself rocking her hips against his fingers.

"I told you, we're more alike than we are different," he murmurs, and she can't bring herself to argue with him right now, not when she's close - ohhh, _close_ , close to her peak. Pleasure mounts in her, slowly but surely, building upon itself and even she knows there has to be a breaking point.

"Shut up," she does manage to say, grinding herself against him. "Elvis."

"Shutting up," he wisely says, and his mouth goes back down to a nipple so that he can suck some more. The hand currently not between her legs winds back behind her to rub at the juncture of her wings, and she finds herself panting into his hair as she rocks above him, her fingers pressing into his shoulder blades.

"Elvis," she pants. She's _hot_ , almost unbearably so, pleasure unlike anything she's ever felt before coiling in her lower belly. Between the fingers at her wings and between her legs, it's like she's being torn apart. She doesn't know what to focus on, doesn't know if she _can_ focus on anything, not when he's still suckling at a nipple, too. "I'm, I'm…"

He's still rubbing between her legs when he pops off her nipple once more. "Shh," he says, straightening up to press his mouth to her chin. "Hang in there."

"I'm hanging in there!" she gasps. "I'm - I - " Tears prick the corner of her eyes as everything sharpens and then it all comes undone. Pleasure races up her spine and her wings go crazy with shudders, showering the two of them in fairy dust. She groans, embarrassingly loud and drawn-out, into the heated air between them as she shakes.

"Crickey," he says with wide eyes, holding her gently. "That was - "

Her eyes close and her limbs feel heavy, and she leans against him. "Don't say anything," she slurs at him. "Not a word."

Instead of speaking, he kisses her temple again, tickling her with his beard. For long moments the two of them sit there, Adelle on his lap, until she starts to feel alive again. There are still little aftershocks that course through her every time she shifts, but nothing compared to what just happened.

After some time though, she stretches. "Okay, you were right. That was fun. What do we do now?"

"Now we rest," he tells her, and she moves off his lap at his bidding. 

She watches him cross the room to turn off the lights before returning to bed, where he lays out on it, gesturing at her, and she lays out with him, tangling their legs together. A thought and she shifts back into her human form; better for cuddles. As she suspected, his arms immediately loop around her, holding her close. She likes that, almost as much as she's liked everything building up to the mind-blowing whatever-that-was he'd just taken her through. 

"Wow," she says. "Is it always like that?"

"... not always," he says after a moment. "It's… not always like that."

Why the hesitation, she doesn't know. But she does know that she's enjoying the feel of his firm body against her own, and she lays her head onto his shoulder. They've slept side-by-side before, in tents or in small country inns with only one bed to their name, but this is new. This is deliberate. 

"A wee bit of rest will do us both good," he says now, squeezing her as he pulls the covers up over them with his free hand. She snuggles down into them, and into him. "Then we can keep going if you'd like."

"There's _more_?" she asks, morbidly curious. What more could there possibly be?

"There's a bit more, aye," he replies, voice flippant. "I told you I'd be useless for a while. I just need some time…"

Oh right. He did say that, didn't he? She casts a glance down at his covered manhood, just to be sure, before curling up on her side. He presses a kiss to her forehead and the two of them fall into a peaceful silence, before she falls into sleep.

She wakes in the middle of the night, sleepy and confused, to Elvis shaking her awake. "Adelle, Adelle," he says. "Do you want to keep going?"

A part of her wants to say no, she wants to sleep. The other part is curious. "What's so good about it that you woke me up?" she asks him, yawning. They'd better sleep in the next morning or she's never doing anything with him again, no matter how good it feels.

His smile is barely visible in the dim light shining through the windows. "You'll have to wait and see."

She wants to complain, but in that moment his mouth covers hers and her groan is probably misinterpreted. She's pressed into the bed by his body above hers, and she, in turn, presses against his shoulders with the flat of her palm, opening her lips to his tongue as it sweeps into the corners of her mouth. That little movement sparks a fire in her belly, and she arches off the bed, pressing her bare chest into his, curling her fingers into his back.

His fingers have already found their place between her legs and she opens her thighs to give him better access, gasping against his lips as he touches something sensitive, but good. It hits differently in her human form compared to her real one, and she can't swallow the groan that escapes her when he presses a finger _inside_. 

"Alright there?" he asks her, his mouth moving down to her neck. He buries his face into the crook of it.

"I'm alright," she pants. "You?"

"I'm more than alright," he replies, and he shifts in a way that she can feel something hard press into her thigh. "A bit wanting, but who isn't, eh?"

"I can touch you," she offers, and one of her hands wanders down until she can wrap her fingers around his hardness, tugging at him gently. Or at least she thinks it's gentle. Judging by his low moan, it's _something_ at least, and she continues doing what she's doing, finally feeling like a part of this and not some bystander.

Then he adds another finger inside of her and she almost forgets to stroke him.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowed. "It shouldn't, but - " His fingers slip out.

"It doesn't hurt," she's quick to explain. It doesn't _hurt,_ but having something inside of her in places she's never even thought about is a new experience. "I'm fine, Elvis."

He's watching her face carefully, and she flushes as his fingers slide back in, scissoring ever so gently. Of course he knows how to make it feel good, she's starting to think he might actually know everything, and she finds herself rocking up against his hand, her own hand moving in the same motion to keep him happy. 

She knows she doesn't have to touch him to keep him happy; he seems happy enough by the way he's nuzzling against her chest, his lips leaving tiny marks here and there across her otherwise unblemished skin. She doesn't know how she feels about the marks - it feels too much like he's marking territory, like a dog, and she is a cat person - but she doesn't stop him either. 

Then he stops and straightens up, kissing her once more. He covers her form with his own, dragging her hips close to his. "I reckon I'm good now to enter you," he says, reaching down to take her hand. "And you?"

"Yeah, sure," she replies, because it feels good enough, but then he's interlaced their fingers so she can't keep touching him even if she wanted to. "I'm - oh, oh, _oh_!" 

_Oh_ , because he's now pressing his manhood inside and that's an entirely different sensation compared to his slender fingers. She pushes at his shoulders, eyes zeroing in on the juncture of their hips. It makes him stop, though the first portion of him is already in her. 

"Adelle?" It doesn't hurt, though there's a strange stretch that's her body accommodating him. She rocks up into it, ever so slightly, noticing how she seems to stretch even more. She'd never even known that part was stretchy! "Should I stop?" he asks her, and his fingers are on her cheeks, forcing her to look at him.

"Don't stop," she tells him, huffing out her words. "I'm _fine_ ." She's more than fine. She's looking forward to this now, to experiencing something so foreign and _human_ with him. 

He presses a kiss to her forehead, and then he's pushing further in, and Adelle clutches his arms, watching as he disappears inside bit by bit until their hips meet. She wiggles, noticing that she can _feel_ him as inner muscles squeeze. This is intimate, a bit strange, but intimate, and _wonderful._

"You like that, eh?" he asks her, propping himself up on one hand, while the other grasps her hips, pulls her even closer across his thighs. 

"Don't make me say it, stupid," she mutters. The way she's rocking imperceptibly into him should say enough! There's a slight smirk on his face as he watches her closely, his hips rolling back and then forward again, and she can't help the noise that spills from her lips as the two of them meet once more. 

Then the smirk fades in favor of him licking his lips and he holds her closely as his hips begin to rock against hers in a rhythmic way. Adelle wraps her arms around him and holds him close in return. While she'd prefer to watch in some fashion, the way their bodies seem to meet as though made for one another, this is good too, feeling his heartbeat pounding in his chest against hers. 

For long moments, the only sounds in the room are of their breathing, of little moans they make, the sound of their bodies meeting. His mouth finds hers and she kisses him, teeth knocking together painfully through his motions. Her own motions are less urgent, meeting his strokes midway as heat builds up her belly as it had before, spurred on by their joined parts.

Then he breaks the silence.

"Adelle, pet." Heat flares into her face at the endearment. She's… never thought of herself as one for those. Then again, she's never thought of herself as one for sex, and here she is, entangled with him. "I'm nearly - nearly there. You?"

"I'm not." She's got some ways to go, judging by the last round. Still, pleasure is pleasure. 

His brows furrow and he opens his mouth to say something, seems to think better of it, and presses his lips against her cheek instead. She lifts a hand to run her fingers through his hair, his ponytail having fallen out sometime ago through their movements, tugging carefully at the locks.

"Alright. A man can't - can't enjoy himself if his girl isn't," he says, and she wants to retort that she's his _girl_ now? She's his _partner_ , that's different. Besides, she's older than him, and not quite his, not yet, not even after this, but he's pulling apart, away, and _out_ _of_ her before the words can escape her lips. 

"Ah?" she asks him instead, pressing her hands to his chest. It's sweaty with exertion.

"Up you go," he says, his hands at her waist, and he rolls them both over with ease until she's straddling him again, her thighs at either side of his waist. She stares down at him as he stretches out on the bed. "There. That'll be better for you or so I hear."

"Will it?" she asks him, a bit confused. Maybe he's just being lazy.

In response, he reaches to grasp her behind and lifts her up, just enough that his jutting manhood slides underneath and back to her entrance. She reaches down with one hand almost instinctively to touch it, noting how _wet_ it is, and between the two of them, she's soon sliding back down onto his length.

She doesn't know if it's _better,_ but it is _different_ , hitting neglected nerves in ways that send sparks of pleasure racing up her spine. She wiggles her hips in a circle above him, leaning forward with her hands against his chest. His fingers cover hers for a moment before he reaches up to touch her breasts, tugging at almost painfully stiff nipples. From there his hands run down her side to grasp her hips, holding her against him. 

"How am I supposed to move if you're holding me in place?" she complains, rocking her hips as best she can. Okay, maybe this isn't all bad, because now _she's_ in control. She can control the angle of penetration, how far he goes - to an extent - and just how quickly they join together. 

"Ach, you're smart, you can figure it out," he replies, but he does let go of her hips, giving her free reign to rock back and forth on him. He _is_ just being lazy, she decides, pressing her hands down into his shoulders and pressing him into the bed. Just being lazy and not at all helping, even when his thumb finds a sharp point of pleasure at the apex of her thighs, right above their joining. Even when it feels so good that she whines from the back of her throat, not at all caring how loud she might be - that's someone else's problem, not hers. And even when he starts to buck up into her, his feet digging into the bed until the springs are as loud as her whining is. 

He comes undone first with a shout of her name, one of his hands digging into her thigh. The other is busy rubbing at that _wonderful_ spot, and she lets out a gasp when he stops. His breath catches and he holds it for a few seconds as something warm and wet blossoms inside of her, his piece twitching.

"Oh, _Elvis_ ," she says. 

He lets go of the breath he's holding, chuckling to himself. "Crikey, Adelle. That was… wait, you didn't finish, did you?"

"No," she says, because though she still isn't entirely sure what he means, she now has a good idea. "I'm still…" Still not done. Compared to earlier, she's close, but not quite there.

His thumb goes to work again, eliciting a moan from her. That feels good, especially because she can still feel him inside, even though he's also rapidly going soft. A shift and he slips out of her, letting her sit on his stomach instead. It makes it easier for him to touch her, his thumb rubbing in gentle, soft circles at the juncture of her thighs. That's more like it. She closes her eyes and focuses on the feeling of pleasure that builds up in her, pulsating deeply in her core.

Like earlier, that pleasure coils tightly in her belly before finally, after some time, springing apart. Toes curling, she finds herself arching over him, shuddering over and over as it ebbs throughout her entire form, before finally petering out. 

"Oh, _Elvis,"_ she says again, reaching up to touch his cheek. "That…"

"I told you it would be worth it," he grunts, his eyes closing for a brief moment. "I hoped you would like it." 

"You _hoped_ I liked it?" Was he kidding? She loved it! It had felt _good_ , especially with him inside of her. That had almost been worth waking up in the middle of the night for. Almost. She still wanted to sleep in during the morning. "Thank you. For sharing it with me."

He pulls her close and she lays out beside him again as she had earlier, feeling a bit messier than before, but just as satisfied. "You don't have to thank me," he tells her. "I did it because I lo-"

She yawns loudly, cutting him off. "I'm tired. Let's sleep," she tells him, not because she doesn't want to hear it - she does, hearing it makes her heart flutter and her chest fill with warmth in a way that has nothing to do with sex - but because she really is tired, and they don't have to say those little words to each other, not when it's apparent in the way that they cuddle close together, and in the way he tenderly kisses her forehead once more. She smiles at him, tucks her head against his throat and presses her lips to his pulse point. He grumbles at her.

"Adelle, let me say it."

"Let's just go to bed," she tells him, squeezing him about the waist. "You can say it as much as you like tomorrow afternoon."

"Ach, fi - afternoon?"

"After tonight, _I'm_ sleeping in," she says. His heartbeat is soothing, in a way. She closes her eyes and listens to it, snuggling under the blankets. "You'd better not wake me if you know what's good for you."

"Aye, aye," he chuckles, and his arm winds around her shoulder. Together, they fit like a glove, like they were meant to be. She thinks maybe they were, as different as they are. "We'll sleep in, I promise."

"Good. And maybe, we can do this again sometime."

She'd like that, learning more about humans and what makes them tick. Learning more about herself in the process. And of course, learning more about the two of them, together.


	2. Chapter 2

It's not the light shining into his eyes that wakes him. It's the  _ heat  _ of another person's body next to his own. It's too blasted warm under the thick covers, and even though he's sleeping in the nude - when does he  _ ever _ do that? - he's sweating.

He opens his eyes, notices the weight on his shoulder, and looks down to see a tousled head of silver hair sticking out in all directions. Adelle is still asleep, her eyes peacefully closed with a thin trail of drool pooling on his shoulder.

Ach, right. The events of the previous night come back to him. So it hadn't been a dream after all, albeit a very  _ pleasant _ dream. He's daydreamed about it before, but nothing could come close to what the reality of last night had been. He squeezes her gently, hoping that it doesn't wake her - Adelle in the morning is a sorry sight to see - but enjoying the feeling of her body against his.

Then, he tries to wiggle out her embrace so that he can get up and go about his day. He'll let her sleep in as promised, especially after the night she's had, but there are things he wants to get done. To his relief, she doesn't wake, instead curling in tighter on herself and clutching the pillow he's left behind. After watching her for a moment, he lifts the covers up to cover her nude form, tucks her into the bed, and leans down to press his lips to her temple. 

She mumbles but stays asleep.

From there, he goes about picking up his clothes from where he left them the previous night. Tugging them on - and noting that it isn't just sweat that makes him dirty - he leaves the room so that he can get cleaned up for the day. Then it'll be time to secure food for both himself and the sleeping woman, and whatever else they need to continue back on their way toward Wiswald.

It's not the light shining into her eyes that wakes her. It's the need to use the bathroom, urgently. She opens her eyes to an empty bed, the covers tucked around her shoulders. The bed is cold.

"Elvis?"

She remembers going to sleep next to him - remembers then, the night she'd had with him. It would seem like a dream, were it not for the soreness in her thighs and between her legs, and of course, that need to use the bathroom. She feels uncomfortably wet.

"I'm right here, lassie." His voice penetrates through the memories. She looks up to see him sitting at the small table in the room, a book in his hand. "Had a good sleep, eh?"

She sits up, pulling the blanket up to cover her chest. It seems a little silly, all things considered - just a few hours ago he'd been sucking on her breasts - but it makes her feel better. Everything is still strange and new. Things have changed between them, somehow. "You let me sleep in."

"Aye, you did ask me to. I figured you deserved it, after the night we had."

The night they had. She remembers it vividly. How could she not, especially with the lingering soreness she feels? She stares at the bed covers. "Thank you." For letting her sleep in, and for showing her human sexuality the previous night.

"You don't have to thank me," he says as he had the previous night. "I did it because…" he hesitates, as though expecting her to interrupt. She says nothing. She had told him he could say it the next day, and here they are. She doesn't need to hear it, really, but it's nice to be reminded. "Because I love you," he finally finishes. There's a soft smile on his face.

"I still want to thank you," she tells him, smiling in return. "It was nice." She loves him too, as embarrassing as it is to say. He should know how she feels, especially after what transpired between them.

Then, she's sweeping the bedsheets aside, not caring anymore for her nudity. After last night, why should she? "I need to use the bathroom."

"Aye," he tells her. "I'll look away." And he does, lifting the book up into his line of vision. It's a bit comforting. All this, and he's still him. 

She has to shift back into her true form to redress, pulling her clothes back on. Then it's off to the bathroom to finally relieve herself. She's a mess, she notices in the mirror when she's finished. There's little marks all over her chest, courtesy of Elvis, and her hair has seen better days. Other than that, though? She feels the same as she always has. She's still Adelle, even if now she's an Adelle who has slept with Elvis. She'd thought she'd feel differently but no… not at all. She doesn't look differently either, mess aside.

Thankfully, her scarf and blouse should cover most, if not all, of the marks, so there's little chance for awkward questions from others. She makes a mental note to complain to him later as she rebraids her hair, pulls it back up into a ponytail and exits the restroom. 

"Is this for me?" she asks him when she returns to the room. There's food spread out on the table. Her stomach grumbles and reminds her that she hasn't eaten since dinner the previous night, and she'd had a  _ very _ active evening.

"Eat up! We'll need our strength if we're to keep heading toward Wiswald today."

"You don't need to tell me twice," she replies, sitting at the other chair at the table. She's famished. Turns out sex burns a lot of energy. Not that she's complaining; it had felt worth it in the end.

He's drinking at a cup of tea as she eats, and she watches him alternate between drinking and reading his book. It's not  _ the _ book;  _ that  _ is long gone. It's some sort of local tome, from what she can see. He  _ is _ a scholar after all, even if sometimes she suspects he's only a half-decent one.

He notices her watching. "Oi, what is it?"

"Oh, nothing," she says, smiling to herself. That'll be her little secret. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I ate while you were sleeping," he replies. "This is all for you."

Her stomach growls in appreciation. "Thanks!" she says, digging in. "If you're going to treat me like this every time we have sex, we should do it more often."

Elvis chokes on his tea, sputtering. "Adelle!"

"What?" 

"You can't just spring something like that on a man. Give me some warning at least."

She laughs. "Are you sweating the details? You?"

He makes a face. "This has nothing to do with the details."

"There's nothing…  _ wrong _ with that then, is there?" she asks him. She's still learning about human sexuality. Maybe she's not supposed to talk about it afterward, or maybe it's wrong to want it? Then again, they'd talked about it before it had happened, so she knows some discussion is okay. Too many rules, details! "Of wanting to do it again?"

" _ Wrong _ ? No, nothing wrong with wanting to do it again, or at all, or anything like that." He's quick to explain, putting down his tea. "Maybe we shouldn't discuss it in front of ah... polite company, but you're not doing anything wrong, Adelle. We'll do it again when we reach Wiswald, how about that, aye?"

They had decided, along with Seth and Gloria, to split up and go their separate ways for six months. Being who they were, it meant they were splitting up into two groups. Seth and Gloria would stay in Halyconia for now, and Elvis and Adelle were heading toward Wiswald. Elvis had already used the natter ring to let Roddy know he was coming back, that the world had been saved, and all was well, so it was really only the journey they had in front of them, through the desert of Savalon and the swampland surrounding Wiswald. It was a journey they knew well, considering they had traversed it multiple times throughout the past year, but now it was just the two of them. 

No more would they be relying on Seth for direction. Elvis would be calling the shots, and she would follow him as she had in the beginning when he'd paid her wages, though he had hopefully learned a lesson or two about managing his kit. Now that she thinks about it, when was the last time he had paid her at all? Maybe when the truth about her being a mercenary came out. Or when the Fire Crystal had blessed her, and she became even deeper involved in Gloria's quest, not the Asterisks, though in the end, they had turned out to be one and the same. Now that they have all the Asterisks, Elvis having been given ownership of them for now, she has no reason to stay with him, save for love. 

A lot of love, she thinks, shaking her head. 

"No?" he asks her.

"No, I mean, yes!" He can't know what she's thinking. "I mean… let's talk about it later, okay? I'm hungry, we don't have to make a decision about it  _ now _ ." She stuffs a butter-covered biscuit in her mouth. Her mind is already made up, but he doesn't have to know that.

After breakfast, the two of them get ready to leave, stuffing their things back into their packs, and taking the rest of the food with them for a late lunch. Then it's out of the inn and back on the road for them.

Adelle doesn't mind the walk, but Elvis complains about it, as he always does. It makes her wonder what she ever saw in him. He can be such a bonehead sometimes, especially when he gets started on feeling old, as though she weren't older than him by like, a lot. Thankfully, his complaints die off by midday, when they stop for a cold, late lunch. The desert sands are hot and unforgiving, and would only be made worse by his big mouth.

She's also thankful when they stop by an oasis for the night, the sun just beginning to dip over the dunes. She helps him set up the tent, start the campfire, and then wades into the water. It feels  _ delightful,  _ especially after the long hours spent under the sun. 

"Oi, oi," he calls from the shoreline. "Don't get carried away, there!"

Monsters run away from them, sensing that they're too powerful to be brought down with ease, but she still knows better than to render herself entirely defenseless. Still, a quick dip can't do any harm, can it?

"I'll be quick!" she promises as she begins to strip down. Her clothes won't do anyone any good if they're wet, after all, and he's already seen her naked. There's no shame on her part as her skin is revealed to the desert sun, sands, and Elvis.

"Adelle!"

She chances a look at him, wondering if he's covering his eyes. To her non-surprise, he's shielding them from the sun instead, watching her as she wades waist-deep into the water, splashing the coolness of it over her arms. "The water feels great!" she calls, deciding to float around on the water, immediately enjoying the feel of it over her shoulders. 

"If you say so!" he replies, and she closes her eyes and waits.

After some time - he really does wear too many layers of clothes - she hears him splashing into the water. He gets closer and closer, until - a wave is splashed over her bare chest and stomach. "Eek! Hey!"

He's laughing as she straightens up in the water, finding her footing immediately. The water covers him below the waist, but he seems to be as bare as she. She finds herself wanting a peek, but he's splashing about too much for her to do much but defend herself. And defend herself she does, ducking under the water. It's the closest she can get to flying in her human form, that weightlessness as her hair floats about her face. 

Oh, from here she can tell he's  _ definitely _ as naked as she, and would giggle were she not holding her breath. Instead, she swims toward him and tugs on his legs, trying to topple him over.

But she's forgotten one vital thing. Elvis is a man, who is taller, bulkier, and heavier than she, though not stronger. As she tugs at his legs, she does nothing but seemingly tickle him. He leans over and scoops her up out of the water, causing her to shriek as she's held nearly upside down.

"Elvis!"

"What are you trying to play at, Adelle?" he asks her, holding her close. She can feel the firmness of his body against hers and is reminded of just last night when he'd held her in his arms, not quite like this, but close enough. She wiggles.

"You're too big," she complains. "Come on, let me dunk you."

"Dunk me?" he laughs. "What are you going on about? Let's just enjoy a nice relaxing dip in the oasis." He lets her go, and she falls back into the water, splashing about. Relaxing, sure. As relaxing as a scuffle with a bunch of goblins, maybe. 

When she rises back to her feet, she shivers. The water is cold, and with the sun going down, the desert sands will be even colder. Elvis winds an arm around her shoulders. 

She leans into him, and the two of them stand in the water for some minutes before she pushes at his chest with all her might, hoping to take him off guard. To her delight, it works, and he goes down with a shout, disappearing under the water. She giggles to herself, pleased, and waits for him to resurface. Instead of reappearing immediately though, she can see his form in the clear water as he swims toward her. Oh no…

She's pulled under by a strong hand and resigns herself to her fate just as the water closes over her head. She kicks at him all the same, succeeding in catching his shoulder at least. The two of them rise at the same time.

"Whoo!" he says, splashing his face with water. Droplets catch on his beard, and his hair clings to his soaked face. "I haven't had fun like that since I was a wee bairn. Alright there, Adelle?" 

She feels much refreshed after the day's walk on the sands, but  _ wet _ , and not in the pleasant way she'd been last night. "I'm alright. We should get out of the water before a monster gets the idea to attack us."

"Ach, you're right," he replies. "We should get camp ready for the night." She watches him wade back to shore, admiring his backside, before making to follow. At the shoreline, they wring out their hair, pull their clothes back on, and turn their attention back to the camp. Adelle crawls into the tent to put their packs away, noticing that with just the two of them, it feels… roomy, almost.

On the journey for the Crystals, it was always the four, sometimes five or more, of them in cramped quarters. Now that Seth has stayed in Halcyonia with Gloria for now, it's just Adelle and Elvis, as it had been in the beginning. 

It's nice. They sit in companionable silence around the campfire, watching the flames and drying up. She finds herself leaning against him, her head cushioned onto his shoulder. After a moment, he winds his arm around her waist and holds her. In conjunction with the fire, it's very warm. She could almost fall asleep like this. Almost.

They eat their dinner in near-silence as well, with only a single comment about the blandness of the rations, and a comment about the stars shining above them. She likes watching the stars; in Mag Mell, the trees were so close together that she couldn't see the full sky like this, as broad as the horizon and twinkling so brightly, like miniature suns. 

He yawns first, stretching out. "I'm flagging. Time to sleep."

A part of her wants to stay up and continue to admire the fireside glow, but she's tired as well. The sooner they go to bed, the sooner they can wake and continue their trek. They're almost to Wiswald. If she's lucky, the next night they can stay at the inn and maybe, just maybe, explore each other a little more.

"Alright," she agrees. "Time for bed."

They crawl into the tent and she watches as he removes his coat and scarf, coils them up together, and sets them aside. Then it's into the bedroll he goes, on his side.

"Are you going to bed, or are you just going to watch me sleep?" he asks her, pulling it up over his shoulder. She turns away instead of answering him, unpinning her scarf, taking it off, and placing it to the side. There's so much room in the tent, she could sleep on the opposite side if she wants, and have room to stretch out.

But she doesn't want to.

As she rolls out her own bedroll, she angles it in such a way that she'll be close to him. He watches, then laughs. "Adelle, come here."

He lifts his arm, opening his bedroll, and revealing that there's  _ just _ enough room for her. She feels heat crawl into her face. Was it that obvious? No, surely she was more subtle than that. 

"Let me at least…" she repositions her bedroll so it's next to his, before flopping down onto it. "Okay, I'm ready."

Ready to be engulfed into his arms. If she presses her chest to his and nestles her head against his shoulder, she can fit on his bedroll easily. It is very warm and cozy, and she can hear and feel his heartbeat. It thunders against her, a comforting sound.

His arms wrap around her. 

"That's better," he murmurs. "Nice and comfy, eh?"

"Yeah." No arguments from her there. Just comfiness. She rubs her foot up his leg, noting how he shivers. They'd already agreed not to get too busy with one another while on the road - Elvis had said something about not wanting to get caught with his pants down - but that didn't mean they couldn't  _ cuddle _ . 

"We'll wake up nice and early tomorrow morning," he tells her, pressing a feather-light kiss to her temple, seemingly his favorite place. "So get some sleep."

Right, sleep. Sleep would be sorely needed if they were to continue on their travels. She's glad to put the road behind her for now. Reaching Wiswald means a stable place to stay for at least a few months, and it's close to Mag Mell. She can always pop in for a visit or two if she likes. Already, Elvis has talked about his plans to fix up his old house - it had been damaged by trees, like most houses in Wiswald - and moving back into it with her. She might even have a place to call home after this, after all the traveling she's done since leaving her village. It'll be nice, she hopes. 

As nice as it is to sleep within his arms. The night passes quickly, without interruption from monster or other foes, and she sleeps heavily, warm and comfortable. 

They wake with the dawn, both of them yawning widely. Adelle goes about packing up their things while Elvis breaks up camp, covering their campfire with sand, tossing aside the one-use tent. Then it's off across the sands once more, heading north to Wiswald. 

They hit the swampland around lunchtime, and Adelle is  _ glad _ to see the sands of Savalon go. Next time, she thinks, they're just taking a wagon from one city to the next. Then again, that means no moments alone together, no swim in the oasis, no inn time… it just wouldn't be the same.

"We should be in Wiswald right after nightfall at this rate," he says, adjusting his pack on his shoulders. "I'll want to say hi to Roddy and Lily before it gets too late."

"I can wait for you at the inn," she tells him. Normally it would be Seth doing the running around, while the rest of them talked with the locals, ate the local foods, saw the local sights. She's familiar enough with Wiswald that she doesn't need hand-holding to traverse it, but after the long trek they've had, she'd like to rest before sight-seeing. 

"Someone is eager, eh?" he asks her, raising an eyebrow.

Her face flushes warm at his words. "Oh, get your head out of the gutter!" she tells him, hitting him firmly in the arm. "Where else am I to wait for you? Your house isn't ready yet."

"Aye, and it won't be for a long while," he replies with a rub against his arm, seemingly not touching on the first part of her response, nor on her red face. Good. He knows what's good for him. "I'd like to help others get their houses back before we work on mine. Mine can wait."

"Then again," he says after a moment. "You need a home to live in."

"I'll be fine." She could say like 'any place is a home with you!' but that sounds just disgustingly gooey, especially for her. In a way, it's true though. Any place she can be with him feels like a home, even if it's just going to be a room in an inn. All told, it will be nice to have stability, after years of searching and wandering. That time is over, even if in the grand scheme of her long life, it's only a heartbeat. "We'll figure things out."

"No need to sweat the details," he murmurs. 

She'll agree with him this once.

True to his predictions, it's after dark by the time they enter Wiswald city limits. They trudge into town, packs heavy on their backs, but at least they are there. Adelle heads toward the inn, eager for some rest. Elvis instead begins to climb up to the Institute. 

"I'll be down in a jiffy," he tells her. "Just going to check in with Roddy before retiring for the night." Which means it's up to her to reserve their room, as she had done in the days before Seth. Well… almost like the days before Seth, when she still didn't fully trust Elvis. Now she trusts him implicitly, with her whole being. 

"Just one room, please," she tells the innkeeper. 

They had stayed there long enough during their multiple visits that the innkeeper recognizes her. "Oh! Back in town?"

"For now," Adelle replies as she accepts the key to the room. "For a while."

"Where's the handsome young man who was always with you?"

"Who, Elvis?" 

The other woman laughs. "Crickey, not  _ him."  _ Adelle feels a bit offended on her partner's behalf. "The younger one, with the black hair?"

"Oh, Seth? He's in Halcyonia." With Gloria, and the two of them were probably getting gooey with each other, maybe as much as she and Elvis were. "Sorry about that," she adds, though she's not sorry at all. Seth is probably as happy as the rest of them to finally have things settled. No immediate destruction of the world, no traveling to and fro righting wrongs. It'll just be him and Gloria in Halcyonia, and it'll just be Adelle and Elvis in Wiswald, settling down for a while. A bit boring to be sure, but sometimes boring is good.

With that done, she enters the room, and upon seeing the two beds in it, throws her pack on one, where it will stay. She and Elvis only need one bed tonight, if what they'd talked about in Savalon holds true. After unpacking the basics, she sprawls out on the other bed, relishing in the soft feel of it. The smell of trees permeates throughout the room, and she takes a deep breath, eyes closing. Wiswald has always been one of her favorite towns, and now she'll be living here for a while. With her partner. With Elvis.

It's a while later she realizes he has yet to return. Sitting up, she then exits the room, intent on finding him. Maybe he doesn't know where she is? It's like him, to get lost. Then again, this is his hometown. If he got lost here, it would be truly tragic. She's tired of looking after him.

They are partners, though. She should probably resign herself to looking after him for a long while, yet. At least, as long as the human lifespan. The thought is depressing, and she banishes it from her mind as she steps out into the Wiswald streets. There's a place and time to think about lifespans, but right now isn't it. As Elvis would say, she shouldn't sweat the details.

Out here, the smell of the trees is even more vivid. She takes a deep breath, stretching, before deciding to head to the tavern. It's closer than the Institute, and if Elvis is anywhere, it's there.

Except he's not. She's been in the tavern enough to recognize its regulars, and  _ they _ are there, but Elvis is nowhere to be seen. Huh, she says to herself as she stops to chat with a local friend. That's a new one. He must still be in the Institute.

Or at least, he had been. She runs into him on the large branch as she begins the climb.

"Adelle?" he asks. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, stupid. What took so long?"

"Aye, I got caught up in reminiscing!" he tells her. "Before I knew it, half the night had passed."

"We still have a long night ahead of us," she reminds him, and she's pleased to see him close his mouth. "Or did you forget?"

"Oi, I didn't forget," he replies. "We have all night to be together. What's the rush?"

"I'd like to get some sleep at some point."

But there's little to be done about it now. They head back to the inn, where his pack joins hers on the spare bed, and then the two of them sit down together. It's quiet in the room, neither of them talking, though he reaches over to hold her hand.

Finally, she thinks. We can get down to business. It's been long enough, even if it had only been a couple of days. She's eager to learn more about humanity, in one of their most intimate moments.

He leans in for a kiss first, his mouth gentle against hers. She hums, lips curving up into a smile as she kisses him back. They hold the kiss for a few moments before parting. She barely has time to breathe before he's leaning back in, and this time his tongue laps against hers. With a sigh she opens her mouth further to him, relishing in the warmth, both in the kiss and what's beginning to build in her lower belly. She's getting used to his beard, and it barely tickles her chin. 

She finds herself being pushed onto her back, Elvis climbing on top of her. Her hands go to his arms, steadying him as he kneels in between her legs, his feet over the side of the bed. 

"You have too many clothes on," she reminds him as his scarf trails across her chest. He should take them off, and soon. At the very least, he should take off his shoes before he accidentally steps on the bed. 

"Aye, I know," he replies. "If they bother you so much, why don't you take them off, eh?"

That sounds like a challenge, and she's hardly one to back down from one of  _ those.  _ Reaching up, she takes hold of his scarf and begins to unwind it. Over the side of the bed it goes, before she starts to work on his jacket, Elvis shifting from one hand to the next as she tugs it, along with his gloves, off his form. That too, goes over the side of the bed, and he's left in just his vest, shirt, tie, and trousers. His shoes, at least, he kicks off.

"You still have too many clothes on!" she tells him. "How is that possible?"

"Unlike fairies, humans like to layer. It gets cold in Wiswald at night." His hand runs down her side to the tie at the side of her pants. "Crikey, I never noticed…"

"Never noticed what?" she asks him, propping herself up on her elbows so that she can watch him fiddle with the tie at her hips.

"You're not wearing anything underneath these pants, are you?" he asks in return, kneeling on his knees so that he can use both hands to untie the string. "No panties."

For a long time, she hadn't even known what panties  _ were _ . Fairies didn't exactly wear them. "No… I'm not." He manages to undo the tie and tugs her pants down to her thighs, revealing her to him. And here he is, still wearing most of his clothes, she thinks, tugging his tie out of the vest it's tucked into and undoing it. It joins the rest of his clothing on the floor. "Why?"

"Just think it makes it … easier to access you," he replies, and his fingers slick against her. She shivers. That feels good, as always, and she finds that she's already a little wet. She spreads her thighs further about his, wiggling up against him. "You like that, eh?"

"You should know the answer to that by now," she chides him gently, rolling her hips as he continues to stroke her. "Don't make me say the obvious."

"Aye, aye," he chuckles, and one of his fingers slips into her. She groans. Already? They were moving quickly. Maybe he  _ was  _ tired.

Then again…

He slips his finger out of her and reaches up to push her blouse over her breasts instead. "Nothing here either," he mutters, and he lowers his mouth to suck at a nipple that's already stiff with need. She threads her fingers through his hair, tugging out his ponytail and entangling her fingers in his locks as he suckles. That feels good too, though maybe not as much as when he'd been touching her…

He pops off her nipple just to nip at the underside of her breast. "Don't leave any marks this time," she tells him, pulling his hair. She wasn't normally one to care about what other people would say, but surely it's scandalous to walk around with marks on one's chest and stomach? She isn't about to cover up for his sake.

"I won't," he promises. "Not least where others can see."

That's… a compromise she can live with. Who else, besides him, is ever going to see her bare breasts? His mouth trails down to her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel. She shivers; that feels weird. Further still, she realizes what he's doing and excitement pulses in her. Indeed, he continues to kiss his way down her lower belly, then the v of her hips, and then… he presses a kiss to each of her thighs. 

"Elvis!"

Instead of responding, his mouth lowers right to the center of her core and she  _ keens _ , arching off the bed. His arms wrap around her thighs to try to keep her in place, but when has he ever outmatched her in strength? At the very least, he manages to pin her back down to the bed, and her fingers go to work in his hair as he laps at her core with his tongue. It feels delightfully dirty and  _ good _ , and she finds herself whining out his name as pleasure builds, hips rolling against his mouth. 

Then he starts to suckle and she almost loses it right then and there, stars shooting behind her eyes. If he knew how to do this, something that felt so wonderful, why hadn't he done it before? She makes a mental note to interrogate him for this, but then that mental note falls to the wayside in favor of pleasure buzzing in the back of her mind, coiling deep in her core, heat spreading throughout her entire body. Her toes curl, her knees bend to her chest, and she finds herself bucking her hips wildly as he continues to eat her out, his tongue absolutely exquisite on her core. Each angle brings a whole new dimension to the goodness that she feels, and she doesn't want it to ever end.

But then, she finally comes undone with a wail, shuddering from head to toe. She whines from deep in her chest, once again not caring how loud she is, whimpering. Her fingers pull at Elvis's hair while she pants out his name. Her hips can't stop twitching as he lets her ride it out, mouth still sucking gently at her core.

"Jings, Adelle," he breathes after a long moment, lifting his head from her. "You're beautiful when you orgasm."

She can't reply. She's too busy remembering how to breathe. All she can do is whimper again. 

"Adelle?" 

She only shakes her head. He straightens up, his hands on either side of her shoulders, before he leans down and takes her into his arms. "Alright, c'mere," he murmurs into her sweat-dampened hair. "Just breathe."

Breathing she can do. She clings to him, buries her face into his shoulder, and just  _ breathes _ . His heartbeat pounds against her ear, soothing her, and she focuses on it, and on the feeling of him. After a few moments, she pulls away and wipes at her face. His thumb rubs at her cheek. He looks concerned, his eyebrows furrowed. 

"That bad?"

"Bad?" she asks him, incredulous. She's found her voice again. "Elvis, that was amazing!" She wraps her arms around his shoulders. "Why didn't you do that before?"

"Before? I can't play all my cards in one night. A man has to keep some secrets," he tells her, and there's a hint of cockiness in his otherwise wary smile.

She licks dry lips. "Do it again."

"How about next time, eh?" he tells her, shifting back onto his heels. Glancing down between them, she can see the tent in his trousers. She now knows what  _ that _ means. "You're probably a little sensitive as it were right now." As if testing her, his fingers dive down between her legs and she finds herself wincing a little. Sensitive, that was one way to put it. When his fingers slide into her, it's a relief. At least that still feels good, and she sighs her approval, thighs opening further. 

"Alright, alright. Next time, though… next time you're going to do it again?" She tries not to sound too hopeful, but she's already looking forward to it.

"Aye," he promises. "Now how about we move on to the main course?"

Must he put things that way? She nods her agreement regardless and watches as he begins to strip down out of the rest of his clothing, pulling his vest off and unbuttoning the white shirt underneath. Then his trousers come off, and his underthings, revealing a maleness already firm and erect. She reaches out to touch him anyway, wrapping her fingers around his length as she had the other night, tugging at him. He groans his approval as he shoves his clothes over the side of the bed, then bends over to make quick work of the remainder of hers. She's already mostly nude; in a few short moments, she is completely nude for him.

"Alright there?" he asks her, nudging her thighs apart with his own as he makes to settle between them.

"Never better," she replies, still intent on stroking him. She likes the way he feels alive in her grip. He's  _ hot _ , and a little dry, though she knows that will change quickly. 

Adelle has to let go of him so that he can enter her, Elvis lining himself up with her entrance with one hand, and she holds her breath as he begins to push in, her body opening readily around him. It's still a strange sensation, that  _ stretch _ , that intrusion, but it doesn't hurt. She spreads her thighs further as though that might help, bringing her knees back toward her chest. His hands grip her thighs as slowly, their hips meet.

Then he's fully inside her and she breathes out through her mouth. She reaches up to grip his shoulder, keeping him from getting too close. "Let me watch," she tells him. This time she wants to watch the way that he slips out and presses back in, wetness already gleaming on his length. 

"Watch all you want, lassie," he grunts, his hips rolling against hers. They meet over and over, him disappearing inside. It's entrancing. She's never seen anything like it, never  _ felt _ anything like it, the way that he fills her completely. She bucks up to meet him halfway so that she's at least a little in control of their coupling; it would be bad for his ego otherwise. She finds that it feels so  _ good _ , being filled by him. It's as though he completes her. 

In a way, he does. Not just in this sense, but in others. They're partners, complementing one another. Maybe that's why she loves him so, his personality the opposite of her own. At the very least, she loves him right now because of the way that he's moving against her, his strokes firm. It sends shocks of pleasure through her system in a way that's different than earlier, but no less good. 

As she watches, fixated on the way he slips in and out, he starts to increase the pace of his thrusts, then the roughness of them, alternately between pumping quickly, then pressing deeply into her for a few seconds, holding his position against her. It's a little confusing and makes her head spin, but in a good, very good way. She doesn't think she'll orgasm again - isn't sure she  _ wants _ to - but it's pleasurable all the same, warm and almost cozy. She could fall asleep if she wanted, soothed by the heat in her body, and spurred on by his. 

"Adelle," he says, and she brings her attention to his face. He's flushed, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Pet, I'm about to - "

Finish. He was about to finish. She nods, squeezes his shoulders. "Go on," she urges him. "I'll watch."

He gives her a lopsided smile, his breath coming in little gasps. Then he's shivering, and she watches him press against her once more, his hips twitching. Once more, as she had previously, she feels something warm blossom inside of her. She groans at the sensation, rolling her hips. Shivers cascade down her spine. This was so intimate, so  _ human _ , and here they were, sharing it with one another.

He sags after a moment, catching himself on his forearms. Adelle, satisfied, wraps her arms around his shoulders, noting how she can  _ feel _ him going soft within her. He's not as firm, not as hot anymore. Still, they're one. It's certainly an odd sensation, but one she could get used to. She holds him close, burying her face into his neck and nuzzling. His arms wrap around her in turn, and for long moments, they hold each other. 

Then with a sigh, he slips out of her, and she feels strangely empty. And uncomfortably wet. She shifts awkwardly underneath him, her thighs on either side of his waist. 

"Thank you," she starts, only to be cut off.

"Don't thank me," he tells her, leaning down to plant a kiss on her mouth. "We did it out of love, aye?"

Out of love. Yes. She smiles at him, leans up to kiss him in return, humming against his lips. She can feel him smile too, and he breaks the kiss only to nuzzle his nose against her temple. Then his hands are running up her bare sides and she squirms, a bit ticklish. "Elvis!"

"Let's get you cleaned up," he offers, straightening up with a hand to his back, acting the old man he claims to be. "I read that women should go to the toilet after lovemaking."

Lovemaking. She likes that term. "When did you read that?" she asks him curiously. "And why didn't you tell me sooner?" She would have done that the other night, had she known. 

"Don't sweat the details," he replies, winking. She shoves at him.

True to his statement though, they do need to clean up, both of them. Thankfully, the bathroom is attached to their room in this inn, and she goes quickly to the toilet. 

When she returns, she finds their packs have been moved to the bed they'd been having sex, lovemaking in. "What are you doing?" she asks him. What  _ was _ he doing?

"There was a big ol' wet spot on the bed," he explains, pulling the covers back on the other bed, where it's nice and clean. "Don't reckon you want to sleep on that."

"No, not really." That sounds terribly uncomfortable, and she makes a face before crossing the room to crawl into the bed that he's gotten prepared. The sheets feel nice on her bare skin. "Your turn to clean up, Elvis."

"Aye. I'll be back in a jiffy."

While he goes to clean up, Adelle snuggles into the blankets. She can feel a little soreness between her legs - she thinks by now that's got to be normal for human sex - but otherwise, she feels good. Good enough that she patiently waits for him to return, propping herself up on her elbows as he approaches the bed. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"That was good, wasn't it? Aren't you glad I decided we should do it again in Wiswald?" she asks him, feeling smug. 

He climbs under the bed covers with her, pulling them up over his waist. "You had the right idea," he says and leans over to kiss her cheek, before rubbing his beard against her face, tickling her. She squeaks and bats at him.

"Elvis! That tickles."

"You weren't complaining when my face was between your - "

"Let's just go to bed," she tells him, cutting him off. Her cheeks feel warm. "You'll let me sleep in again, won't you?"

"I suppose I could, aye," he agrees. "Make it something of a tradition between us."

"Oh, and don't forget breakfast, either." She has to remind him of that or he's liable to forget. That man, sometimes. She wonders what she sees in him. "I want a nice Wiswaldian breakfast waiting for me when I wake."

"Breakfast, got it." Then he's wrapping his arm about her waist and holding her close, and she nestles her head against his shoulder, her hand against his chest. It's nice and warm under the blankets. He presses a kiss to her forehead. Right, she thinks, that's what she sees in him. Someone she can trust, with both her body and her heart. "Goodnight, Adelle, love."

"Mmm, goodnight Elvis." Already he seems to be falling asleep, his grip going lax, and his eyes closing. 

She stays awake a little longer, resting her head against his shoulder, and listening to the sound of him breathing. It isn't that she's not tired - because she  _ is  _ rather tired from her earlier orgasm and from the build-up of pleasure since - but rather because she wants to enjoy every moment that she can with him. She's liked learning about human sexuality with him, about pleasure and she wonders how much more she can explore with him.

Human lives are short, after all. How many nights like this can they have together?

Banishing that thought from her mind, she kisses his bare shoulder and snuggles in to sleep. What would he say if he saw her thinking about this? ' _Don't sweat the details_ ', probably. And for once, she won't. 


End file.
